How Hamlet really should of ended
by kirstydope
Summary: What if Laertes and Hamlet didn't really battle to the death?


Laertes raised his sword to Hamlet with a vicious fire growing through his belly. A deep smirk on his face with knowing that the sword was actually poisoned and he knew today was the day that he would get revenge for his father's death and _nothing_ would get in the way. The green concoction shined on the silver metal of the sword menacingly toward his opponent. Hamlet on the other hand was holding his sword but talking to a fair maid with his sunglasses on, _what a pretentious jerk._ What Ophelia had ever seen in this "dark" prince was beyond Laertes. All Hamlet did was go around saying how much his life sucked and how he hated this castle yet he always found a decrepit nook in it to hide in and pop out whenever he had something grand to proclaim. _Then his poetry!_ Ugh, if Laertes ever had to hear another one of Hamlet's poems about life and death he would go join his father and sister in their graves because he would find a greater time in there than listening to Hamlet's poems. Then his complaints about the King, his uncle like the guy was pretty cool, I mean he's letting Laertes _kill_ Hamlet and letting the kingdom free of his horrible poems.

"Are you ready to fight Hamlet or should I wait for you to get a room with that girl?" Laertes asked across the fighting stage pinching the bridge of his nose and pushing his glasses up….wait when did I get glasses? He knocked the glasses off angrily while the rest of the room cried out in laughter. "You are not as fast as you seem my dear Laertes!" Hamlet called out laughing and gently tickled the maids chin while walking to the center of the stage. He walked with such a strut that even Tyra Banks would be jealous, Laertes didn't even know who she was but knew one day she would be a great woman with a great strut. But Hamlet's strut was the best of the land and it will be a shame to kill him but that _shucky darn poetry._ Laertes wanted to scream at the thought of Hamlet's poetry but he calmly walked over to the middle near hamlet and joined hands as is tradition. They backed away from each other and the fighting began. Swords soaring through the air with such grace and integrity that it made Laertes shed a single tear but he sucked it back up to his eye because he was a man now, in a man's sword fight and could not let Hamlet see him cry. But Hamlet on the other hand was still wearing his black sunglasses, total laxidasical to the situation and even yawning at some points. Laertes was giving it his all but could not seem to get the poison onto Hamlet. A sharp pain went through Laertes as the sword in Hamlet's hand slapped onto his side.

"A point!" Shouted Hamlet. He went over to the maid he was talking to earlier and kissed her on the lips out of happiness. For some reason this made Laertes mad, not just because hamlet was being a world class butt. But he just stared at Hamlet and admired his strong walk as he went over to get the new sword for the next round. Sweat was growing upon Laertes brow so he took a handkerchief from a servant who was about to blow his nose, "Ya snooze ya lose broski." He wiped his forehead while looking the servant straight in the face and once the piece of fabric was moist with sweat threw it in the servants face. He looked over to Hamlet hoping to impress him but the young prince was still occupied by the young maid. The king in his seat was staring at Laertes with fire in his eyes, literally there was a fire in his eye and it was beginning to freak him out if he was being totally honest. Like was it a medical condition or was a demon possessing him or was he really just that irate with Laertes not sticking Hamlet with the poison already? Laertes was mad sure, but did he _really _want to kill Hamlet? Suuuuuure he killed his father and drove his sister to insanity and practically ruined his family but could he really kill someone with the deepest blue eyes that ever did blue? But then Laertes thought of Hamlet's poems enraged the fire in his belly to let a low growl come out of his lips. But the growling wouldn't stop and the fire in his belly was engulfing his entire body leaving little tingles of pain to spread out.

Laertes did not know what was happening because he was sure that the poison never touched him so he knew he wasn't dying, but it felt like it. Pain and slight regret of even fighting Hamlet were spreading throughout his body leaving him to scream. Everyone looked his way even the king whose fire eyes were turning into small blue flames, _softening_ Laertes sighed inwardly. The room suddenly went all pastel colors and everyone including Hamlet and the King were gone, even the poison covered sword was gone but he was now holding a kind of stick thing and for some reason his hand was moving in a circle around his body leaving a white trail of glitter after it. Then all of a sudden he was spinning around and the pastel background was starting to swirl together into a mess of soft pastel grunge. The stick thing was now being moved in his hand up into the air and his body unwantedly spread out, arching his back. Hair was growing out of places that he didn't understand and rapidly. As the hair grew out of his skin though popping noises were being made that had the equivalent noise of what he thought glitter flowers opening would make. Finally he swirled in a circle, thinking he wasn't going to stop, until finally the pastel background was gone and he was back on the sword fighting stage.

"My _god!_" The Queen shouted from her seat next to the king, which eyes were blazing in full fury with even the flames shooting outside of his eye sockets. Laertes looked around, still confused by that whatever it was, and rubbed his hands absentmindedly which to his surprise felt like a dog. He looked down to his hands, or what he thought they were, and screamed. They were elongated with the knuckles extruding inhumanely and hair all over them. The hair was dark black, the color of the night sky; minus the blues and purples and all those _totally _unnecessary colors that only _Hamlet _would put into his dreadful poems. He looked over to Hamlet confused and worried, the look on the prince's face wasn't terrified but oddly interested.

The door then slammed open causing the whole hall to draw their attention to the new guests. The horror on the faces multiplied by who or _what _was standing in the doorway. The two gruesome figures limped toward the fighting stage fighting through the crowd to get up there. Laertes looked over to Hamlet and saw the shock finally settle in on seeing Polonius and Ophelia alive and kickin it.

"But….b- bu- but I killed you man?" Hamlet swiped his sunglasses, finally, off his face showing off his ever blue eyes that ever did blue that showed a worry like never did worry. Polonius stood with a smile on his face, "Nah bro, 'tis only a flesh wound." Then he walked over to Ophelia, putting an arm over her shoulder and using his other hand to point to her, " And her? Well I don't know what you did but she's still pretty crazy man like why couldn't you just date her or something instead of playing mind games?" He shook his head and looked down to his feet then looked over to Laertes, "Ah I see you have finally reached your truest transformation of a _Why-Wolf! _Yes son, that is what you are and you have been cursed since birth to spend an eternity of questioning why and how, that's why nobody likes you!" A huge smile spread upon his fathers face while he clapped.

The king stood up, enraged the flames in his eyes engulfing his whole body, "What is going on! What is happening! Why?" Then a second later he was covered in fur also but still had those weird fire eyes, Laertes was still confused about those. Hamlet ran over to his mother to protect her from Claudius, "Do not fret mother! I will protect thee!" Nothing happened because Claudius had turned into a Why-wolf too so he didn't really attack things with brute force rather than clever questions. "Why do you protect your mother? Why aren't you actually the king? I mean thats the way a true monarch happens but instead I married into being king like how does that even happen? This play is so historically incorrect that it hurts! But who is going to be king now?" Then Hamlet jumped forward with his sword swinging it into his Step-Beast-Father and withdrew it. His whatever Claudius was now grasped for the whole in his stomach try to patch it up, "Why...wh-why won't it work?" With that he fell to the ground and died.

"Well I think it's safe to say that no one will really miss that jerk, right?" Hamlet called out to the room of spectators and he was answered with vicious glares and he shrunk back holding his hands up in defeat, "Ooops."

With that ends the dreadful and altogether quite boring story of Hamlet with only one true death, two zombies, 2 why-wolves, and Hamlet lived on to tell his awful poems which would eventually bring the downfall of the Danish kingdom


End file.
